


The Reichenbach Fall, sort of

by cdelbridge



Category: johnlock - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Happy Ending, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:27:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 7,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25456201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cdelbridge/pseuds/cdelbridge
Summary: What really happened on that roof and afterwards?
Relationships: Johnlock
Comments: 102
Kudos: 86





	1. Chapter 1

“This is my note.”

“Sherlock!”

“Let me through! He’s my friend!”

With a shout, John Watson sat straight up in bed, his heart racing. Even with the prescription sleeping pills, he couldn’t get more than a hour or two of sleep. He’d look like hell at the funeral today.

Sherlock’s funeral. Putting his arms around his head, and his head on his drawn-up knees, he felt tears and hopelessness well up inside him. He couldn’t do this. It was too much to ask of him. But he would do it, for Sherlock. Wiping his eyes, he got out of bed and headed to the shower.

~~~~~~~~

Standing at Sherlock’s gravesite with Mrs Hudson, he had to force himself to listen to her ramblings.

“What should I do with everything John?” Tears spilled down their landlady’s cheeks. John put an arm around her and hugged her tight.

“I’m not leaving Mrs Hudson. I’ll still be in the flat for as long as I can bear it. OK?” He felt tears start to fall from his eyes. 

“Thank you John! I’ll be glad to have you around as long as possible.” Giving him another squeeze, she started to turn then looked questionably back at him.

“I’ll be along. I’m just going to say good-bye in my own way.” John patiently waited as she turned and walked off, then turned back to the grave. His good-byes were going to be private and heart felt.

Finally, feeling totally drained, he turned and started to walk to the main gate. Head down, he was trudging along when the cemetery caretaker came up to him. 

“Mr Watson?” he asked. John nodded. “Would you like to have a seat in the office? You can sit, have a drink of water, or something stronger if you’d like, until you feel more like yourself.”

John didn’t say that nothing would make him feel like himself but he followed the man into the cemetery offices. Opening a door, the man gestured John inside and said, “take your time.”

John thanked him and closed the door. Turning, he said to the shadowy form in the corner, “Sherlock Holmes! Get over here and hug your husband!”


	2. Before the fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How did we get here?

Earlier that week:

“Sherlock! No, we can’t do this!” John Watson-Holmes was pacing the sitting room, gesturing wildly as he tried to make his point.

His husband, Sherlock Holmes-Watson, was lying on the couch with his hands together under his chin in classic Mind Palace pose. He sat up in annoyance and then started pacing as well (opposite the line his spouse was walking).

“No John, it has to be done this way or Moriarty’s goons will come for you, Mrs Hudson and Lestrade. I can’t take the chance that anything else will fix this issue.” He checked up, briefly, as his line intercepted his spouse, then they both continued.

“OK, so Moriarty has snipers set to shoot the three of us. You’re proposing you fake your death by jumping off the building. I’ll be down below, watching, and pretend it’s real. Everyone will think you’re dead and the snipers will leave, eventually. Then you’re going to go off for an indefinite period of time to hunt down his organization. Let me come with you!” John had altered his pace so he ran into his spouse.

Hugging his spouse close to him and burying his face in the short, blonde hair, Sherlock said, “oh god, I wish we could but it wouldn’t work. You can help though.”

John, arms wrapped tightly around his spouse, said, “how? I’ll help anyway I can to bring you home sooner.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

After the funeral:

Sherlock held John tightly to him as they enjoyed the few minutes they’d have together until god knew when. 

“You’re going to keep in touch and let me know where you are and how you’re doing, right?” John pulled back to look at his gorgeous husband. “Don’t make me come looking for you!”

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t do that to you.” Sherlock pulled John back to him. “Now what are you going to do while I’m gone?”

“I’m going to be openly grieving and heart broken. I’m going to take care of any drama in London, especially Moriarty’s underling, Mary Morstan.” John pulled Sherlock’s face down to him, “if you get into any trouble, you get a hold of me and I’ll come running.” He kissed his husband soundly. “Where are you off to?”

“Germany. Sebastian Moran is holed up in a little house he considers safe outside of Munich.” Sherlock nibbled on John’s ear, “you have to go. If someone’s watching you, they’ll start to wonder.”

“I know.” John couldn’t make himself pull away. Finally, reluctantly, he stepped back from the detective. “Take care of yourself Sherlock. You’re the love of my life!” And he disappeared through the door.


	3. Hello Dr Watson!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three months later

Three months later:

John Watson was in his office at the surgery catching up on paperwork when the door opened and Sarah poked her head in. “John! I’d like you to meet our new employee!” She came in the rest of the way followed by another person. “This is Mary Morstan! She starts tomorrow.”

The average looking blonde woman stuck her hand out and said, “I’m happy to meet you Dr. Watson!”

John schooled his features, shook her hand and said, “welcome! I hope you’ll like working here.” He smiled politely.

”I’m sure I will.” She smiled broadly. “It will be great to work with such wonderful people! See you tomorrow!”

The women left to continue their tour. John shut his door and took a deep breath. He had to talk to Sherlock.

~~~~~~~~~~

Text Message

”Hey baby! Hope you enjoyed the other night as much as I did! What about tonight? I’d love to see you after I get off work. Same place? Say about ten?”

Sherlock Holmes was driving through Austria when John’s text arrived. Even though the note was serious, the code was entertaining. He smiled just because he was hearing from his spouse. Now to wait until the phone call.

~~~~~~~~

”Hey!” John breathed into the phone. “I miss you.”

”Miss you! So much!” Sherlock bowed his head. Being away like this was so hard. Taking a deep breath, he asked, “so what’s going on?”

”The surgery has a new employee, Mary Morstan. She was introduced today and starts tomorrow.” John was sitting in his chair with his feet up on his husband’s. He felt closer somehow.

”Not good! You’re going to have to keep your weapon on you. What do you think?” Sherlock was sitting on a cramped bed in a cheap hotel. “Oh, add another one to my scorecard. I’m heading to Switzerland next.”

”Good! One more villain closer to you being home!” John closed his eyes. “As for Morstan, I’m wondering if your chain of Moriarty associates disappearing has gotten back to her.”

”Could be although I’ve been subtle.” John snorted. His husband continued, “as only I can. You know you’re going to have to kill her.”

”I know. I’ve expected her to turn up after I dispatched those two a month ago.” John was comfortable and the fire was nice. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

”I know. John, I’m so glad you convinced me to let you help. I really couldn’t do this without your support.” Sherlock stared at the floor as he said this.

”I’m so glad you’re letting me help.” There was a moment of silence between the spouses as they both thought about each other. “Hey,” John was suddenly lively, “I bet I can talk you into an orgasm.”

The detective sat up, pulled his clothing aside and grabbed his cock. “Betcha can’t!”

John pulled his out of his pants and said, “you’re on!”


	4. The New Employee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mary comes to work with John.

The surgery had been busy all morning which didn’t leave John much time to think about the new employee. She had made a point of speaking to John but if you didn’t know who and what she was, you’d never think anything was amiss. After the mutual orgasms last night, John and Sherlock had discussed what they thought would happen with Morstan. John really hoped his spouse was mistaken but doubted he was.

“Do you think they know you’re not dead?” John had asked casually but of course, Sherlock saw through it.

“No, I don’t think they have any idea. Moriarty’s group is pretty far-flung and loosely organized. He was the linchpin of the whole thing. I doubt anybody knew more than one or two others in the group. Minimizes the risk if someone gets caught. If they don’t hear from someone, it’s not surprising. These are criminals who could be in jail, in hiding or dead.” Sherlock had been laying on the shabby bed in his hotel room covered in come. He just was so comfortable and didn’t want to end the call just yet. They communicated with burners but still had to be careful.

“You know, Sarah reminded me of the medical conference I’m supposed to go to next month. She thought it would do me good to get away. I know it depends on a lot of things but maybe we could get together there?” John held his breath. Mutual masturbation sessions were nice but he needed the physical presence of his spouse.

“I think we can make that happen. Send me the details and I’ll see what I can do.”

~~~~~~~

John was climbing the seventeen stairs to the flat when his regular mobile rang. He didn’t recognize the number but answered anyway.

“Hello?”

“John? I mean Dr. Watson? This is Mary Morstan. I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner sometime?”

“I’m not really good company right now, a close friend died and it’s hit me hard. Sometime in the future when I’m better company?”

“Oh, I didn’t know! I’m so sorry! Yes, whenever you feel up to it. Good night!”

“See you at work.”

Well that was weird. John removed his jacket and tossed it on a hook. No matter what, he didn’t trust Mary and had no desire to be alone with her.

~~~~~~

“John.”

“Mycroft.” John really had no desire to talk to his brother-in-law who had been against their marriage and then against Sherlock including him in the Moriarty drama. “What can I do for the British government?”

“Per a mutual acquaintance, I’m having some information dropped off to you. I trust you won’t leave it lying around.” Mycroft was such a pompous prick! You could practically feel him looking down his nose at you!

“I know you don’t think much of me but I’m not stupid.” John wasn’t in the mood for Mycroft today.

“I never said you were! When you talk to Billy (Sherlock’s real first name was William), tell him I asked after him.”

“I’m sure he’ll be thrilled. Night.”

~~~~~~

While leaving for work the next morning, John couldn’t help looking over his shoulder. Mycroft’s information on his new co-worker was disturbing. She had been recruited at an early age into the clandestine service ranks where she had made a name for herself as an assassin. Her downfall had been a sadistic streak the recruiters missed as well as enjoying “playing with her food” a little too much. This had led to her dismissal from government wet work to being a part of Moriarty’s organization. Just what the world needed, John thought, a psychopath (Moriarty) and a sadist (Morstan) working together. He couldn’t flinch when he got the chance to take her out as he doubted he’d get more than one. Feeling exposed, John flagged down a cab and headed to the surgery.


	5. And Who Might You Be?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mary comes to visit

Mary Morstan stood in the middle of 221B with her hands on her hips and a look of disgust on her face. Men tended to live like pigs. Where to look? 

“And who might you be?” The voice came from the doorway.

The assassin spun around to find a short, seventy-something woman in the doorway. The landlady.

“Hello! I’m Mary! I’m a friend of John’s. I’m just waiting for him to get back.” She stuck out her hand, being friendly.

“Well, I’m pretty sure John is at work so why don’t you tell me what you’re really doing.” The older woman leaned against the doorway and waited.

Mary started heading towards the landlady, slowly and in a friendly manner. She hadn’t planned on killing anyone else but you do what you have to.

When she was about two feet away, she stretched casually and took her gun from her waistband. Only to find a gun in her face from the landlady, Mrs Hudson (why that fact jumped to her mind now made no sense).

“What are you doing?” She tried to act surprised and offended. At least part of that wasn’t an act.

”I’d expected you a long time ago. You need to leave him alone which I know you won’t.” Mrs Hudson adjusted her stance and fired. Mary fell to the floor, a look of surprise on her dead face. “But now you will.”

Mrs Hudson backed up a few steps and held her gun trained on Mary, just in case, as she fished her phone out of her pocket. “Need your help,” she said simply and hung up.

~~~~~~

John returned home several hours later, tired and annoyed. He was surprised to find dinner in the refrigerator and a note from Mrs Hudson, “Needed to relax so I cooked. You benefit as I made too much for just me! Enjoy!” John opened the dishes and grinned. “Yum!”


	6. Excuse me, what?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mary is dead.

“Wait a minute.” Sherlock Holmes was cleaning his gun as he talked to his husband. “You’re telling me that your new employee didn’t show for her third day of work and didn’t call in. I’m guessing she didn’t answer her mobile either. So, what, Sarah went to her flat after it happened again and found her dead. And you didn’t do it?”

“No Sherlock! I’d think I’d remember shooting her, for Chrissakes!” John was agitatedly pacing the sitting room as he talked. “Sarah knocked but the door was ajar. She knocked again and called out as she opened it further and saw Mary sprawled on the floor.”

“Puzzling.” The detective muttered as he added another clean piece to the paper towel. “So some unknown person has done us a huge favor. And very neatly it seems. Did you talk to Lestrade?”

“Yes but the Yarders are completely in the dark.” He ignored his husband’s long distance snort. “She was shot at close range by a small caliber weapon. The shooter got her in the forehead. The bullet didn’t exit so you know there’s a lot of internal damage.”

Sherlock reassembled his weapon as he thought. “Did they look around the flat? Notice anything that may be out of place or missing? I’m not looking a gift horse in the mouth but I’d rather know if the shooter is friend or foe.”

“I agree but her flat was tossed and her wallet was missing. They questioned the neighbors but no one saw or heard a thing.” John continued pacing and thinking.

“What?” Sherlock was never the most patient of men but being away and unable to help John made him less so.

“I saw the body Sherlock.” John searched for the right words. “It looked professional.”

“I need to talk to my brother. Something is off with this.” Sherlock, many miles from his John, now paced back and forth as well. “What do you have on for the next few days?”

“Nothing really. I’m still mourning my friend and not very good company.” John stopped his pacing and sat down. “Why?”

“Stick close to home for a few days. And don’t leave home without your gun. I don’t like this.”

“I don’t particularly like it either. You know, I could always come and help you if London gets too weird.” John said hopefully.

“It might come to that.” Sherlock said vaguely.

~~~~~~~~

“Mycroft.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Billy?”

“Don’t be an arse! What happened with Mary Morstan? Is John in danger?” Sherlock wasn’t frantic, just concerned. Or so he told himself.

“John is fine and not in any danger. He will be perfectly safe at 221B.” Mycroft smirked to himself, old MI5 employees never really retired. He really owed Mrs. Hudson for that one.

“Who shot Morstan? I heard it was a professional hit.” Sherlock said tersely.

“Sherlock, your husband is fine. I would not let anything happen to him.”

“But you’re not going to answer my questions?” Sherlock had been pacing his tiny room. At Mycroft’s “no”, he threw himself on the bed.

“Sherlock,” Mycroft drew the detective back to the present, “what is your estimated timetable?”

“I think six months, maybe less, given how things are progressing. Why?”

“London isn’t the same without you.”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“Be careful brother dear! Call if you need anything.”

Fucking arse! Sherlock was missing the undercurrents but it wasn’t always easy to deduce something several countries away via phone. He needed to do some research and go to his mind palace.


	7. Mrs Hudson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She what?

“Seriously?” Sherlock had spent the evening on his laptop and searching his mind palace and he thought he knew who had killed Mary Morstan. However, he still couldn’t believe it, Mrs Hudson??? He really needed to talk to John.

“Are you awake? I need to talk. SH”

John hadn’t been awake but the distinctive tone he’d added to his husband’s number jerked him from sleep. He picked it up, immediately concerned.

“Sure. Are you going to call?”

Seconds later, his burner phone rang.

“Hey.” John climbed out of bed and went in search of caffeine. “What’s going on? Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I just really missed you.” He paused for a second, thinking. “I figured out who shot Mary. Are you sitting down?”

“That good huh? Give me just a second.” John grabbed his cup of cold coffee and microwaved it. It was disgusting but he felt more alert. “Ok, give me.”

“Are you sure?” Sherlock couldn’t resist the dramatic pause. “It was Mrs Hudson.”

John snorted while sipping his coffee. “Right. Seriously, who was it?”

“I’m serious John. She’s former MI5. I don’t have all the details but I’m guessing Mary came over when you weren’t home and Mrs Hudson caught her. I doubt Mary expected to be killed by someone who looks like she plays bridge for excitement. She probably was going to take out Mrs H after she was found snooping in our flat. Mary lost that round.”

“Damn.” John was thinking back. “What do you think she was looking for?” He was quiet for a moment, thinking. “Oh my god, when I got home the other day, I found the fridge full of food. There was a note from Mrs H saying she needed to relax so had been cooking and made too much.”

“That’s it! That’s how she unwinds!” Sherlock was just as floored as his husband. “So she catches Mary, kills her and then gets rid of the body.”

“How?” John asked quietly. “How would she do that?”

“I’m sure she has lots of people who’d help her get rid of a body, John!” Sherlock said thoughtfully. “Even Mycroft.”

“Do you think she knows you’re still alive?” John asked.

“Probably. I’m sure Mycroft has informed her in some fashion.” Sherlock was quiet on his end. “We need to talk to her! We need her on our side and alert for any issues! Can you talk to her in the morning?”

“Yes but are you sure this won’t put you in any danger?” John asked.

“I think I’m pretty safe for the moment. Just talk to her and explain why we did what we did, ok?” Sherlock bowed his head. “We really need to get off of here but let me know what she says! Love you!”

“Love you, Sherlock!” John hated how he felt after hanging up with his spouse. “Be careful!”

~~~~~~~

John was just finishing getting dressed when he heard a knock and a, “whoo hoo” from the sitting room. “Just a minute, Mrs Hudson!” No time like the present although he really wasn’t sure how to begin: Hey Mrs H! Appreciate the food. Did you happen to kill an international assassin in the sitting room the other day? Oh and Sherlock is alive. Want to do lunch?

He found her pacing the sitting room though she stopped and smiled when she saw him. “Oh, there you are John! I’m heading to the shops and wondered if you needed anything.”

“That would be wonderful, Mrs Hudson. I do need a few things. Would you like me to come with you?” John knew he was avoiding the conversation he needed to have but seriously, the woman made him waffles!

“Oh you don’t have to John! I’m running several errands so it’s not going to be a quick trip.” She looked expectantly at him.

“Mrs Hudson, I have a really odd question to ask you.” He looked at his feet for reassurance. “This might sound insane but did you find someone in the flat the other day? And shoot them?” He leaned casually against the doorway but it was really holding him up. She just stared at him. “No judgements mind you, I really appreciate it actually! Saved me from having to do it myself.” Now he was babbling. “Oh, by the way, Sherlock isn’t dead. Would you like to get lunch sometime?”

“Yes.” She said simply and moved to the door. “Why don’t you text me the items you need.”

He vaguely heard his landlady move down the stairs and the front door shut behind her. She’d said yes, seemingly to all of it. Dear god, he needed to sit down before he fell over.


	8. Ah Paris!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John goes to his medical conderence

A month later, Paris

John set down his suitcase and started to unpack. When Sarah had suggested he attend this conference, he hadn’t been enthused. Sherlock had just faked his death, he himself was lonely and stressed out and all he wanted to do was hide from the world. Now, however, he was glad she’d insisted on it. The medical conference itself was taking place at one of the large hotels where he had a room. He didn’t expect to spend much time in it, or at the sessions for that matter, as Sherlock was in Paris. He couldn’t wait! It had been months since he’d seen his husband and their mutual masturbation sessions didn’t quite scratch his itch.

Finished with his unpacking, he turned on the telly for background noise and went to shower. The flight hadn’t been excessively long but it had been crowded and the hot water would feel wonderful.

Standing under the hot spray with his eyes closed and thinking warm thoughts about his spouse, he was surprised at the long arms that wrapped themselves around him and pulled him close.

~~~~~~~

“I thought you were going to wait?” John was lying with his head on Sherlock's chest. They had made use of the shower, the bathroom floor, the bedroom wall and finally ended up in bed.

Sherlock smiled. “I know but I couldn’t wait. Besides, I’m not sure anyone would recognize me.”

It was true, Sherlock was normally impeccably dressed and groomed. Now, he wasn’t. The clothes weren’t the biggest difference though, his hair had grown out into a glorious disheveled mop and he was sporting a goatee. John ran his hands through his husband’s hair. “I gotta tell you, I love this! You have beautiful hair.”

“You haven’t seen me in months and all you can talk about is my hair?” Sherlock rolled his eyes and pulled John close.

”I thought you were getting a room in a different hotel? What if someone sees you?” John asked worriedly.

”No one is going to see me. I’m not going to leave your room anytime soon although I do need your help.” Sherlock was running his fingers over his husband’s back and shoulder muscles. “One of Moriarty’s circle is supposed to be at this conference. I don’t think he’s after you just happens to be here as well. We should take advantage of it.”

”I can do that.” John was lightly running his fingers over his husband’s chest and tugging on his chest hair. “Who is it?”

”A Doctor A. Smithson.” Sherlock was looking at the ceiling feeling more relaxed than he had in months. “Know him?”

John sat up and looked down at his husband, “I don’t know him but I do know her.”


	9. Psychopathic Woman Love Me!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is pursued by insane woman.

Two nights later:

“What the fuck Sherlock!” John was leaning against a brick wall trying to catch his breath. “I thought you said she wasn’t after me? Do you think she saw you?”

“No, I think she just thought I was a passer-by. I don’t think she was after you initially.” Sherlock panted next to him. “I’m guessing that finding you here was more than she could resist.”

“Wonderful, I’m irresistible to psychopathic female killers. There ought to be a name for it. This is what, my second one?” John was understandably getting annoyed with the whole thing.

“Third,” his husband corrected.

“Third?”

“Mrs Hudson. I got a look at her MI5 file. Let’s just say you should never sneak up on her. Or make her mad.” Sherlock peered around the corner. “I don’t see our murderous doctor.”

“Do you think she gave up?” John didn’t even believe that one.

“No and neither do you.” The detective took his husband’s hand. “She probably went back to the hotel. She still has another whole day before the conference ends to take you out. This way she can play with you.”

“Lovely.” They started back towards their hotel, keeping a wary eye out for gun-toting doctors. “So, what are your plans?”

“Plans? Oh, to take her out?” Sherlock peered into a dark corner, sensing movement but it was just a urinating derelict. “Isn’t she addressing the group in the morning?”

“I believe so. Why?”

“She may over-sleep and miss her session. Permanently.”

Next morning:

John awoke and immediately rolled over to press his morning wood into his husband’s back only to find an empty bed. After the events of last night, this woke our good doctor faster than caffeine. Climbing out of bed, he checked the bathroom then the rest of the suite for his tall, gorgeous spouse. Nothing.

Worry began to settle over John as he dithered in place, wondering what to do. He had just finished throwing on last night's clothes to go look for Sherlock when there was a knock at the door. Peering through the peephole, he saw a busboy with a breakfast cart. Carefully opening the door, life with Sherlock had taught him you can never be too careful, the young man entered and started unloading a large breakfast.

“Thank you, but I didn’t order breakfast.” John told the energetic young man.

“No, your friend ordered, and said to tell you he’d be right back.” John signed the check and the busboy headed back out the door as Sherlock entered.

“Where have you been?” John waited until the door was shut, barely, before he’d asked. “Are you alright?”

“Fine. Took care of our little problem.” Sherlock sat down and started rooting through the entrees.

“Dare I ask?” John said casually.

“I startled her when she was in the shower. She slipped and cracked her skull on the ledge. I didn’t have to do anything.” Holding up the teapot, he asked, “want some?”

“Please.” John took a bite of egg then said, “so she’s going to be late for her session. Someone will go look for her and find her dead? That was relatively easy.”

"Love it when they work out like that!" Sherlock began eating, "maybe it's all the sex but I'm starving."


	10. Back Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is home again but is he safe?

John Watson sat straight up in bed. At first he couldn’t say what had woken him but then he heard it again. A creak from the worn floorboard leading to the bedroom. 

Sliding out from underneath the comforter, he slid quietly to the floor away from the bedroom door. His gun was on the bedside table and he quietly collected it, his phone and his night vision goggles. Reaching back up to the bed, he pulled the full-body pillow (he missed sleeping wrapped around Sherlock, ok?) under the comforter and moved towards the closet. He slipped into it, leaving the door ajar so he could see.

The doorknob twisted slowly and the bedroom door silently pushed open. A man he’d never seen before stood in the doorway. He was taller than John with light hair, dressed in black with a gun trained on the bed. He fired three silenced shots into the body pillow, which did look like someone sleeping, then made his way to the bed.

John had seen enough and through the slightly open closet door, he fired twice. The body slid to the floor with a thud. John quickly came around to the intruder and searched for a pulse. Dead. 

With his nightvision goggles still on, he checked the rest of the flat. Nothing. The man had been by himself. Removing the goggles and turning on the lights, he went back to the bedroom and checked the body. No one he’d seen before and no ID. Quickly, he snapped a picture of the man’s face and sent it to Sherlock, as well as reassuring him that he was fine. Then he sent the same picture to his brother-in-law and said, “I have a pick-up for you.”

~~~~~~~~

People at Mycroft’s level have minions who do things for them. He wasn’t surprised when his brother-in-law appeared shortly thereafter with a couple nondescript, burly men who wrapped the body and silently left with it. 

Mycroft watched them go then turned towards John. “Are you alright?”

“Yes.” John had remembered to throw on a pair of jeans before “company” had arrived. Moving towards the kitchen, he asked, “Would you care for tea? Or something stronger?”

“Tea is fine, John.” Mycroft followed him into the kitchen and watched as he made their drinks. “I take it you didn’t recognize the would-be assassin?”

“No, I didn’t. Who was he?” John set the condiments in front of Mycroft and they both took a seat at the kitchen table.

“David Morgan.” At John’s blank look, the British government elaborated, “Mary Morstan’s boyfriend. He appears to have been bent on revenge.”

“Wonderful. Doesn't matter that I didn't kill her?”

“No, and the thing is John, you’re no longer safe here. As much as I hate to do this, I’m going to suggest you meet up with Sherlock. You can keep each other safe and hopefully speed this up some. I suggest you pack. I’ll make all the arrangements and get back to you soon.” Mycroft stood and looked John over. “Take care of him please John. I can’t lose my brother.”

“I know Mycroft, I will.” Then to John’s absolute astonishment, Mycroft gave him an awkward, one armed hug and said, “take care of yourself as well.” He turned and went down the stairs.

John picked up his phone to call his spouse. Mycroft hugged him? Sherlock would never believe it.


	11. Sherlock!  What is that?!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys journey further afield after Moriarty’s merry men.

”Sherlock!” John loudly whispered. “What the fuck is that sound?” The noise was hard to describe, something like a bellow and a chuff mixed together. It was making the hair on the back of John’s neck stand straight up.

”Alligators.”

John swallowed, surely he’d heard wrong. “Did you say...”

Sherlock flashed his big lantern light towards shore. There were two large alligators basking in the mud. A glance further down shore showed several more.

John sat down in the bottom of the boat and said, “Jesus Christ.”

”Just remember John, they move very fast and if you need to shoot one, aim for a small spot on the back of the head where their armor is very thin. Anywhere else, you’re just going to piss them off.” Sherlock looked down at him. “Are you alright?”

”No.” John squeaked.

Two days earlier:

The sun was rising and yet the street below looked relatively busy. Early morning workers? John snorted, it was New Orleans! These people probably hadn’t been home from the night before yet.

Turning at the noise behind him, John said, “I’ve always wanted to come here. I never expected we’d be here hunting down one of Moriarty’s Merry Men though.”

His husband, Sherlock Holmes, joined him at the window. “We need to scout out the area. Early morning while many people are sleeping off their drunk is an excellent time. Shall we get breakfast then be on our way?”

”Sounds good.”

Later:

”Sherlock, I have been in a hell of a lot of places but I’ve never experienced anything like this.”

”Like what?” Sherlock looked around blankly. “What?”

”This weather!” John waved his hands around. “I felt like I walked out of the hotel into a hot, wet blanket. Then add the heat on top of the humidity!” They continued walking down the block. “No wonder Americans have air conditioning! I miss winter!”

”Oh please John!” The detective looked so different from his usual self, John kept staring even though he was used to it. He was wearing a Pittsburgh Penguins shirt (“what’s a Pittsburgh Penguin?” “Professional hockey team John! I’m learning to like hockey!”), khaki shorts with lots of pockets and sneakers with short socks. What was freaking John out the most was his husband’s curly hair. The humidity had made it frizzy and since it was shoulder length now, “Damn you have a lot of hair!”

”Whatever, John. We are going out tonight. Our boy plays in a blues band. We need to find where he’s playing tonight.” They continued walking down the street.

”A blues band? Really? I wonder if they’re any good?” John gave his husband’s hand a squeeze.

”Focus John!” The detective squeezed back then dropped John’s hand (humidity!) as they continued on their way.

To be continued...


	12. Out And About In New Orleans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys track down another member of the gang.

After exploring the city most of the morning and staking out the bar their quarry would be playing at, John was wiped out. The humidity and heat had done him in.

"How did you survive Afghanistan?" Sherlock asked curiously. John was reclining in their bathtub filled with lukewarm water and looked like he planned to stay there.

"Seriously? Say it with me Sherlock! Humidity! This is insane! The forecast for tonight is mid-eighties but with the humidity it will feel like mid-nineties! At night! There was no humidity in Afghanistan!" John was flapping his hands animatedly.

"Whatever. You'll be happy to know I bought insect repellent." Sherlock threw over his shoulder as he went to answer the door. Their late lunch had arrived. "I've heard the mosquitoes are vicious."

"Of course they are." John muttered as he let out the water and stood to dry himself. "They're probably big enough to carry you off and laugh while doing it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that night, walking Bourbon Street with his spouse and a geaux cup, John was seriously smitten with the city, humidity be damned! The food was incredible, you could drink on the streets (although they both had the obligatory geaux cups, they weren't really drinking much) and the music was to die for. They casually strolled until they found themselves at the bar their quarry was playing at. After paying the ridiculous cover and refilling their cups, they made their way to the stage.

"The person we want is the sax player," Sherlock whispered into John's ear. "He's a great musician but a scum as far as humanity goes."

"What did he do for Moriarty?" John asked. The music was incredible. He might actually regret having to dispose of this one.

"They profited off the last hurricane. You know, stole people's identities, ran their credit into the ground, made off with their life savings. Some of the victims were dead, some weren't. Took them years to get things fixed. Some never did." Sherlock was watching their quarry although John thought he was appreciating the music as much as he had.

"That's horrible!" John glared at the saxophonist.

"They also held bodies they found for ransom." Sherlock continued. "Some they just fed to the alligators, no matter if the family paid or not."

"Jesus!" John was looking at their next target with disgust. "Maybe we should feed him to the alligators."

"Might solve some problems," Sherlock said thoughtfully.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the band was done, their quarry ("What's his name?" "MacGregor! Why?" "I need something to call him besides wanker!"), walked casually through town, sax in hand. John and Sherlock followed from the other side of the street.

"What's your game plan?" John watched MacGregor empty his geaux cup and toss it. "That pig! On top of everything else, he litters!" John was repulsed. "Seriously. what now?"

"We go back to our room after we follow him a little further. The band plays at the same place tomorrow night. I have an idea." Sherlock grabbed John's hand and they continued on their way, making their way through the crowds, watching the man on the other side of the street.


	13. The Take Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And another one bites the dust.

John walked up to the bar to refill his drink. While he waited, he turned and looked out over the crowd. The place was filling up and the band was getting ready to go on for their second set. Turning back around, he noticed MacGregor next to him. Gathering his nerve, John said, "I love your playing."

The sax player turned to make a rude remark, John guessed, but then checked up when he saw the doctor. Sherlock had discovered that MacGregor was partial to short, blonde military men so John had dressed in camo army pants, tan t-shirt, dog tags and dust colored combat boots (courtesy of the Army-Navy Surplus Store). The musician let his eyes wander up and down the doctor's body and he moved closer. "Thank you. Passing through?"

"Yes, unexpectedly had some free time and I didn't have a chance to change. Got separated from my friends but we're leaving tomorrow afternoon. Thought I'd stop in and listen to some music."

"Well, I'm not playing this set but I'd really like to talk some more. Let me stash my horn and I'll be right back." He moved closer to John and said, "I'm MacGregor by the way."

"John." 

"Back in a flash!" He picked up his drink and moved backstage. John waited patiently. Finally, he saw the musician returning.

"Drink full?" He asked John. "I was thinking I could show you some other bands before you leave."

"Sounds good!" He motioned to the door. "Lead on." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sherlock stand and follow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"MacGregor, are you trying to drag me down this alley to have your way with me?" John was trying to avoid the musician's hands without appearing to avoid them. Thankfully, by this point, the saxophonist was losing his coordination and stumbling.

"Whosh, me?" This was followed by a drunken chuckle. "The last beer really hit me. Or did you drug me?"

"Why would I do that?" John led MacGregor further into the alley. The smell was indescribable. "Are you telling me that you don't want my arse? Because I don't believe that for a minute."

MacGregor staggered against the side of a building. "I feel funny."

"What's that mean?" John asked. "Are you telling me you got me all excited for nothing?"

"Who are you?" MacGregor looked straight at Sherlock who had suddenly appeared, went to his knees, then fell forward onto his face.

Sherlock had pulled the car close to them so with the doors open, it was hard to see MacGregor. John quickly opened the trunk of the car and together they lifted the unconscious man into the trunk and closed the lid. Quickly climbing into the vehicle, they drove quietly though the streets and out of the city.


	14. "He's Dead John!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MacGregor is a pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies to Tanya Tucker and Delta Dawn. I couldn't resist.
> 
> Feral hogs are an issue in parts of the south. They have amazing bite power so crunching a femur isn't beyond them. Sorry MacGregor.

"Let me understand this!" John Watson was standing behind their vehicle, gazing into the boot. "We lure one of Moriarty's Merry Men into an alley because he wants my camo-covered arse after you slipped enough ketamine into his drink to knock a moose flat. When he passes out, we toss him into the car and drive off. When we get to our destination, we find him dead which I'm pretty sure is what we ultimately had planned and you're upset?" He turned to his spouse with his arms out and said, "what the fuck, Sherlock!"

"The ignorant fuck got off easy! He must have had something else in his system to make this lethal." Sherlock was pacing back and forth behind the vehicle. "And I'm mad because he's a loathsome human being who should have hurt more or something."

"OK, I'll grant you that he should have suffered but we rid the world of him and we're one step closer to going home! Seriously though, he was a musician. It's not out of question for him to have taken something on his own." John put his hand on Sherlock's chest to stop him as he paced towards him. "My question is, what should we do with him now?"

"I have an idea."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two days later,

Next stop Florida! John was riding shot-gun, of course, and watching the scenery. "I should really learn to drive."

"There are times when it would have come in handy." Sherlock pointed out. "Maybe I'll take you for lessons when we get home." 

For now though, they were free and together, with the AC cranked and singing along to country music. Not that they knew the words, mind you, they were making up their own. 

"Delta Dawn, this song just sucks balls. Could it be anymore banal if it tried?" The boys sang merrily. "And did I hear you say, you wanted to eat my arse today."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two nights ago,

The car pulled into a dark alley. The passenger side door opened and a short man got out and reconnoitered. Not finding anyone, he waved to the car which flashed it's lights at him. The driver's side door opened and a taller figure got out and met the shorter one at the back of the vehicle. Opening the boot, they lifted out a dark shape and draped it casually over some debris as if it had fallen there. Getting back into the car, they carefully drove off without a backward glance. When their tail lights were gone, movement occurred in the alley. Movement around MacGregor. Movement of the feral hog variety.


End file.
